‘Some men now-a-days are so fine. They stand about the doors at a dance like farm servants at a fair waiting to be hired.’
‘That’s not the way with the Duke’s Own,’ said Diggle, laughing. ‘No idlers are allowed when we give a ball. You should see our youngsters dance; and we have a string band on purpose for dance music.’
‘Delightful! Do give us a ball, Major Diggle.’
‘With all my heart; when you like. You shall fix the day, and it shall be the finest Triggertown has ever seen.’
The subject was re-opened another day, when Diggle was not by.
‘Does it rest with him?’ incredulous Sir Rupert asked of Ernest. ‘What does your colonel say?’
‘Oh, Colonel Prioleau’s “not in it” compared to Major Cavendish. We always call him Major Cavendish, he likes it better. The Major’s the leading man in the regiment. He does just as he pleases. There’s nobody like him.’
And Ernest went off into pæans of praise, expatiating upon Diggle’s innumerable good qualities with all the eloquence (it was not much) he could command.